


A Night in the Bunker

by dragonmist1028



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmist1028/pseuds/dragonmist1028
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas loved watching Dean sleep. A typical night in the bunker becomes one they'll never forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raegan_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raegan_Black/gifts).



> This is my first attempt at Destiel smut for my dear friend who is trying to open my eyes to Dean being a bottom. Enjoy!

Cas loved watching Dean sleep. It was a way to pass the nighttime hours in the bunker since Angels don’t need to rest. Dean always kept a small light on in the room because he knew what could lurk in the dark. Part of it was to give him the advantage of seeing his attacker if he were to be jumped in the middle of the night, part of it was so he could keep an eye on his “Sammy” at all times in those seedy motel rooms, and part of it was a longing for the childhood he never got to have. Cas sat in a chair beside the bed as he always did, watching Dean in the dim light, studying him with - the only thing Cas knew to call it was reverence. It was much the same way he had thought about God before He abandoned Heaven: all-consuming awe and adoration. But with Dean it was something more than that: the way his lips parted ever so slightly as he slept, the muscular definition of his shoulders, the way his black boxers hugged every curve. Cas’s body responded to those curves in a way that he still didn’t understand.

 

As the hours passed, Cas watched Dean’s bare chest rise and fall rhythmically, his eyelids flicker with dreams. Then, around 1 AM by the bedside clock, Dean’s breath became shallow and ragged – almost a pant – his brow furrowed and his fists clenched in the sheets. Cas had seen this before. He knew Dean was haunted by his past: the things he had seen and done, the people he had hurt and let down. But something about tonight was different, it was more frenzied than usual, more desperate. “Cas! No! Please!”  
Whatever nightmare was haunting Dean involved Cas. It was torture to know that the thought of him could cause such pain in his friend. But then, he reasoned as he hung his head, he deserved it. He had failed Dean so many times. Betrayed him. Hurt him.

  
“Cas! Don’t leave me!”

  
Cas looked up. Leave me? Was that Dean’s nightmare? His biggest fear? Could he really want Cas to stay with him? And if so, in what capacity? A friend? More? Cas leaned over and placed a hand on Dean’s forehead, gently stroking his hair and trying to calm away the demons with his touch, feeling the sweat bead under his palm. Slowly, Dean relaxed. His hands unclenched and the rhythmic breathing returned.

  
Cas leaned back in his chair and passed the next few hours in confused contemplation. Could it be possible? Could Dean want him? No. Dean was so beautiful, so strong. There was no way he could love someone as weak and broken as Cas. Just as he resigned himself to the fact that he had misunderstood the situation as he so often did, Dean’s breath quickened again. “Cas! No! I need you! Please!” This time his whole body tensed, the muscles in his arms sharpened in the dim light. His back arched and his knees drew to his chest. The next sound Cas heard moved him to action. It was barely a whimper. A terrified, anguished whimper. Cas moved around the bed and slid in behind Dean. He held his friend close and whispered “It’s okay. I’m here.” Dean calmed once more and a slight smile brushed his lips. He nestled back against Cas’s body and pulled Cas’s arms around his chest. The feelings that flooded through Cas were all very new and complex. He was happy that he had been able to help his friend, saddened by the pain Dean was enduring even in slumber, and excited by the way his body reacted to the way Dean’s body pressed and rubbed against him as the night wore on.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Cas had no idea what to do. He couldn’t leave Dean. The thought of watching another nightmare was more than he could bear. But every time Dean pushed back and grinded against him, it was all he could do to stay still and quiet. He focused on Dean’s shoulders, tried to count the freckles to pass the time, feeling his own boxers getting tighter by the moment. Finally, afraid he couldn’t take anymore, Cas attempted to slide carefully out of the bed. But as he moved, he felt an arm reach across and stop him. “Stay.” 

Cas looked back to see that Dean was awake and facing him now, his green eyes full of a different kind of desperation. Cas slipped back in to the bed, trying unsuccessfully to hide what his body was experiencing. His heart pounded as Dean slid closer, his calloused hands gently slipping over Cas’s chest and down his stomach. His stomach muscles clenched and a gasp escaped his lips as Dean’s hand found his erection in his white boxers. Heat flooded his body and his head felt strange, clouded. His eyes closed and his head fell back against the pillow as every sensation rushed to Dean’s touch. Dean’s rhythm was slow at first, gentle. Then it became faster, his thumb flicking over the head of Cas’s cock with every pump. Cas’s body responded automatically, his hands shoved his boxers all the down and his hips bucked, meeting every stroke, his breath coming in pants now. But suddenly, Dean’s pace slowed. Then it stopped completely. Cas was confused and frustrated, the pleasure he had felt had turned into a throbbing ache. 

“Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”  
“No, Cas. You’re perfect. I just want more.” Dean’s eyes glinted in the semidarkness, his deep voice even huskier than usual.  
“More? I don’t understand.”  
Dean flashed Cas a grin that nearly finished him off as he turned to the bedside table and drew out a small bottle. He poured some clear liquid into his hand and rubbed it all over Cas’s aching erection. Cas drew a shuddering breath as Dean’s touch returned. Once Cas was nice and slippery, Dean poured some into Cas’s hand and turned again to face the door shedding his own boxers as he did so. Dean’s hands reached back and guided Cas’s down. Cas let Dean lead him to his opening and Cas instinctively knew what to do. He circled Dean’s hole with the slippery liquid, delighting at the little gasp that escaped Dean’s perfect lips. Encouraged, Cas slipped one finger inside. Dean’s resulting squirm was all Cas needed. He inserted another finger, stretching Dean’s hole, marveling at the warmth and the tightness.

“Cas. Please.” Hearing Dean Winchester begging for him was all Cas could take. He sloshed the remaining lube on his straining cock and positioned himself behind Dean. The next moment was one of the best in all of Cas’s existence. Dean was so tight. Cas nearly came right then. But he forced himself to focus again on Dean’s freckles and slowly, the pressure eased. He slid all the way in, feeling every glorious inch along the way. Wrapping his arms around Dean’s chest, he fluttered kisses across those magnificent shoulders. He pulled back, almost all the way out, then pushed back in, painfully slow. Dean’s squirming was intensifying as his hand pumped his own erection. “Fuck. Cas.” He pushed back against Cas’s cock with such need, such hunger that Cas lost all reserve. He pulled out again and then slammed in, to the hilt. Dean made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a growl. Cas’s fingers dug in to Dean’s arms, fighting for grip, for traction. Faster and faster, their breath and bodies in perfect sync, sweat pooling between them. Dean’s hand matched very thrust, pumping his own cock in perfect time, craning his neck to find Cas’s mouth. Their tongues fought for position as their cadence below continued. Cas began to feel the pressure building again, that fantastic ache, every stroke bringing him closer. “Dean. I – I…” But before he could find words, his whole body tensed and he poured himself into Dean with a shuddering gasp. “Oh, Cas.” Dean’s hand gave one final, furious pump as he too climaxed, spilling onto the sheets. 

Lying there together, their bodies still connected, Cas thought that he had never felt more at peace - sticky and sweaty but completely happy.  
“Cas?”  
“Hmm?” was the only reply he could muster.  
“Why did it take you so long to get out of that chair and into this bed? You’ve been in here every night for months.”  
Cas was taken aback. “You knew?”  
“Yeah, I knew. I’ve been hunting since I was a kid. It takes more than an angel to sneak up on me.”  
Cas snuggled closer to Dean, drinking in that delicious scent of whiskey, leather, and something uniquely Dean. “I guess I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure you wanted the same thing I did.”  
Dean turned to face Cas, breaking their physical connection but looking at Cas with such honesty and earnestness that Cas couldn’t look away even if he tried.  
“Cas, of course I want you. I need you.”  
Cas knew what it took for Dean to say those words and nothing he could say could match that.  
“Me too. I’m not going anywhere.” was all Cas could think to say. Dean looked at Cas, realizing that Cas knew. He knew what Dean’s greatest fear was. He knew that he was Dean’s whole world.  
Dean laid his head on Cas’s chest, his finger absent mindedly tracing Cas’s collar bone until it finally slowed and stopped, replaced again with the rhythmic breathing.  
From that night on, Cas spent every night in Dean’s bed. Sometimes he just held Dean while he slept, other times they made love, but Dean never had another nightmare.


End file.
